Shattered Peace
by dustflare
Summary: After winning the Hunger Games, your life is never the same. You're transformed into someone you don't want to be.
1. Chapter 1

_Mmkayy, so this story's about victors of the Hunger Games. Katniss and Peeta aren't the only ones with nightmares. The Hunger Games changes lives, transforms you into someone you don't want to be._

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><p><em>I got memories<br>This is crazy  
>You ain't nothing like the [boy] I used to know <em>

**Wolf Prattly**

"Shut up," I whisper with a low, raspy voice. Bringing my hands to my head, I squeeze my eyes shut in attempt to block out the world around me.

"But Wolf-"

"I said shut up!" Reaching out and slapping Citrine across the face isn't the best thing to do, but I do it anyway. A single salty tear leaks from her eye and trickles down her face. Again, I press my fingers to my temples as she stalks off in those ridiculous stilettos.

_Stilettos._

Sedge used to wear stilettos.

Memories of my former best friend rush through my mind. Every night, her blithe laugh rings in my ears. I still see her gorgeous smile every time I close my eyes. Her memory haunts my dreams. Pictures of her tossing glossy ginger sheets over her shoulders form in my mind. Those frosty, amorous blue eyes pierce my thoughts.

Was she just my friend, or was she more? I never told her I loved her, but did she know? Could she see through that bitter mask of fire and burning hatred? Most likely. I had known her for twelve years – we met when we were only four. Oh, the joyous days when competition was who could climb highest in a tree, when love was an emotion only family members felt for each other.

Only a year ago, I volunteered for the 120th Hunger Games. My eighteen-year-old cousin was a tribute two years before. She was slaughtered during the night by the vicious District 2 female. That was one reason I volunteered; to make up for the loss of my cousin's life. I never would have guessed how much the Capitol would torture me, how much burning agony I would be put through after I won.

Everyone I love – loved – has been taken away from me. Peacekeepers slit my sister's throat right before my eyes. As she cried out in pain, her tears dripping onto my face as I watched, I begged for her to life. But Linny's life, lasting for only eight years, was not spared. It caused a chain reaction. Months later, my mother got in a fight with those same Peacekeepers. She wanted to avenge sweet, little Linny's death. Silently, they chained her hands and tied her feet, then led her to be hung. That day, a crowd gathered at the square and watched a twenty-six-year-old girl being mercilessly hung. Her death was ordered by the Head Peacekeeper, Daryn Prull. After my mother was my father, only twenty-seven. He stabbed himself through the heart, and as he was bleeding his life away, he jumped off a bridge. His body was never recovered. My eleven-year-old brother was such a copy cat; he wanted to be like Father. He was so young, so naïve… and after eleven years, his life was ended the same way as our father's.

I have another brother, Jace. He's nineteen and cooped up in a hospital. Nurses tell me he's got something wrong with his mind. He and Linny were both tributes; but Linny was too fragile, too sweet. Jace was the strong one. Until he became a victor. During the Games, the District 4 girl cut Jace's neck with her dagger and almost killed him. He completely lost it after that. Chopped off a girl's head and threw her into the lake. Even the brutal boy from 4 feared him.

I fell into a deep depression after that. The next year, when I was eleven, Sedge's brother volunteered for the Hunger Games. Although he had been training for years and was completely prepared to enter, he was killed on the seventh day by a brutal mutt.

Then it was Sedge's turn. That beautiful, vivacious girl was reaped at the age of sixteen. I remember the way she bounced lightly with every step she took towards the stage, her ginger hair blazing in the sunlight, her simple cobalt dress swaying around her knees. And her eyes… Oh, when I met her so long ago, her eyes were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Gelid blue eyes engraved themselves into my mind, never to leave, never to be forgotten. Shimmering golden hair blinded me once again. As I embraced her, stroking those resplendent locks, her hot tears staining my shoulders, I knew I would never see her again. After that day, Sedge and all the memories that came with her would be nothing more than a nightmare, haunting my sleep night after night. She stepped onto the train, leaving my life forever, and all I could do was watch. Watch as she shone in a stunning aqua dress during her interviews. Watch as she was shot through her head, pinned to a tree, and stabbed over and over with a sword. As her blood poured from her body, leaving her hanging lifelessly on a branch, I fell to my knees and felt as if I was dying, too. Dying a restricted, savage death. My heart felt as if it shattered into a million pieces. My entire body was numb with shock and pain. Sedge, the only girl I would ever love, had died for the Capitol's entertainment. Never again would I see those grand, ravishing features. Never again would I cling to her thin, tepid body.

I will never know if she loved me.

Although her death was only a year ago, I've had so many new girlfriends. None of them equal to Sedge, though. Coming close to that is simply impossible. She was the girl for me, and now she's gone.

"What's wrong, Boo?" asks Matty as she slides into the seat across from me. "Having a bad day?"

"Don't you know it, Matty," I grumble. "Leave me alone."

She pouts her lips mockingly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. You know I'm not leaving without an answer." And I do know. She's impossible to get rid of, and she's all I've got left. So I decide I'll trust her. I might as well; she reminds me a little of Sedge.

"I hate being a victor." Anyone else would be scared out of their wits if they said this out loud. But I'm not anyone else. "No, I don't just hate it. I despise it with a burning passion. It's nothing like I imagined it to be. I always thought that I'd live a perfect life in a towering marble mansion with Sedge."

"But she's gone, now," Matty says quietly.

"She's gone," I repeat, feeling the need to confirm this. "She's gone…"

"Who was she, exactly?" Raising an eyebrow, Matty cocks her head to the side. She appears genuinely concerned and intrigued.

"Sedge was…" What was she? "She was my best friend. We met when we were four. But I-I, um… I was too afraid to tell her I loved her, and I… I lost the chance," I stammer. Words can't explain what Sedge meant to me.

Matty lets out a long, dramatic sigh and leans back, folding her arms across her chest and crossing one leg over the other. "I know how that feels," she mutters. When I look expectantly at her, she sighs again and continues. "I used to know this boy, Jace Prattly."

"Jace Prattly!" I exclaim, my eyes widening. "He's my brother!"

Every head in the café turns to me. Peculiar emerald eyes bore into mine from a seat by the serving counter. Their owner, a young girl, fifteen by the looks of her, hops off her seat and glides over to Matty and me, placing her hands on the marble table. "I knew Jace, too. He was my sister's boyfriend."

Matty coughs acutely. "Anyway, Jace was the best thing that ever happened to me. When he volunteered for the Games, it broke my heart. I never explained how I felt, and by the time he got back, it was too late. But whatever, it's fine."

"He's not the best guy," I mutter. Addressing the ocean-eyed girl, I add, "Who's your sister? I might know her."

"My sister? Oh, she's Amber Prull."

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><p><em>In case you're wondering what's so greatawful about Amber Prull, take a look at the last name. Daryn Prull, Amber's brother, hung Wolf's mother. So yeah. Um... This story just sort of came from nowhere, like a lot of my other ones. I've actually been writing this for a while, but I keep forgetting about it. I'm quite fond of this one, though, unlike the others. Oh, and the song at the beginning is "Icebox" by Omarion. I just think those lines go well with Wolf. I mean, he's remembering his past life and he knows he's never going back. Poor him._


	2. Chapter 2

**Aliah Sheyson**

Salty tears leak from my eyes, drip over my slightly parted lips, and splash into the steaming mug before me. I clutch the mug with ghostly white knuckles. My breath comes out in jagged, breaking gasps that I fight to steady. But the tears won't stop. The gruesome images will never cease to haunt me.

My brain takes a moment to register the knocks coming from the other side of the mahogany door in my living room. Slowly, I rise from my chair, leaving behind my drink, and walk silently over to the door. Face blank, breathing still ragged, I turn the knob and gently pull the door open to see my neighbor, Wolf, leaning against the outside wall.

"What do you want?" My voice cracks. Though he shows no sign of fear, I'm almost certain I look like a monster. I've been crying for countless minutes and hours and days, trying to straighten myself out. My clothes haven't been changed in almost a week. Sleep hasn't come for half that time, either.

"Just came to see if you were alright." He raises an eyebrow, looking somewhat concerned. I can't really tell _what_ he's thinking or feeling, though, behind that mask of apathy that's always plastered on his face. Rarely do I see him smile.

I purse my lips and quickly reply, "No, I'm not alright," before slamming the door shut. I don't want to deal with him right now, not in this state. Besides, he would never understand. Unlike me, he's got plenty of friends to rely on and definitely is not in the process of figuring out how to survive through the next couple of months. He probably doesn't even wonder what horrors the next day will bring!

_Maybe__I__'__ll__be__able__to__sleep_, I think doubtfully. I head up to my room and flop onto the regal white bed. Folding my arms behind my head, I stare up at the ceiling and sigh. For a moment, all is peaceful. Suddenly, I hear the door bang open and I leap up from the bed and rush to the banister.

Clutching onto the wooden railing for support, I gaze down at the living room and see Wolf smirking up at me. "Sorry, I didn't know it was unlocked." Grinning, he climbs up the stairs, two at a time. I'm impressed when I realize he took his shoes off when he entered my house. Still, I'm very perturbed.

"What was that for?" I growl, slapping him across the face. Red splotches appear almost instantly from the strike, and I think I even see my handprint.

"Someone's angry," he mutters, cursing lightly under his breath. "Want me to fix the door? I wouldn't mind."

I let out a raspy sigh of exasperation. No. Just get out of my house." The sentence sounds queer as it slips from my cracked, parched lips. Instead of an order, it's more like a statement.

Wolf backs away a little. "Sorry, I- I um… Like I said, I ca-can clean up the mess…" _Is__he__afraid__of__me?_

"It's fine," I say tartly. "I don't really care. Just another mess in my life." The last part comes out as a mutter.

Wolf's face softens and he nods. "I understand. My life's pretty… messed up," he says quickly, with a wink. He sits down on the top step, obviously making himself feel at home. "Life is a struggle."

"Totally," I groan, plopping down beside him. For some reason, I know I can trust him. It just seems natural. "You were the victor of the first Hunger Games, right?"

He nods again, solemnly this time. Pain flickers in his stormy gray eyes, causing me to trust him even more. The real Wolf is hiding behind another man. "Cost me my family." He pauses. "I had to kill my sister."

I blink in surprise. "Wait, so that District Two girl… she was your sister? I thought you two sharing a last name was just a coincidence!"

"Not a coincidence," he says cadaverously. "We both lived in Thirteen, but we got separated after the– you know. Rebellion."

"Sorry," I mumble, kicking the white poles connecting the banister to the stairs. "I have family there, too. And a best friend in District Eight; she says it's awful."

Wolf grunts. "No need to apologize." Another pause. "You should come to my house. After all, I live down the street."

"Why would I want to come to your house?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly happy here, thanks."

"You don't seem happy," he says with a light laugh. "Come on, Aliah. I even have a cat! Her name's Keeta."

I giggle and bound down the stairs. "I love cats! My mother bought a little black-and-white kitten when I was six. That was the best birthday." With a sigh, I muse over the happenings of my sixth birthday.

The first thing I saw when I woke up was, as always, the squeaky floorboards of the attic. Propping myself up on my elbows, I blinked a few times, my eyes still adjusting to the waking world. Sunlight sieved through the dirty window, replacing the dim light of the room.

A yawn escaped my mouth and doused my eyes, fogging up my vision once again. I stumbled over to the bathroom. Per usual, my bister hair was kinked in all directions and my t-shirt was rumpled.

After brushing my teeth and combing out my hair, I quickly put on a lavender dress and headed downstairs and almost tripped when I reached the bottom.

It was already afternoon, so my entire family had time to get here. Sitting at the kitchen table was my mother and grandmother, chatting away and gesturing frantically. My sister beckoned me over to the couch and I look my place between her and my little brother, Kaden. Grinning from ear to ear, seventeen-year-old Jada carefully placed a little box on my lap, about the size of my hand.

"What is it? I asked, blinking up at her with clear blue eyes shining like stars. I shook the box, trying to figure out what was in it, and pouted when no sound came.

"Open it up and see!" she exclaimed. So I ripped the red paper right off the package and found myself staring at a velvet case. Tentatively, I flipped up the latch and peered inside.

Inside the case was a silver ring, reflecting the light from the candle behind me. With a gasp, I picked it up to examine it closer. In the middle was a beryl sapphire, attached to the ring by diminutive diamonds sparkling in the light. "It's beautiful," I breathed. And it truly was. That tiny gift was the best I ever received. It was the most stunning object I had ever laid eyes on. I slipped it onto one of my chubby fingers and smiled, gazing down at my present.

Then came another shock. When Mother opened the kitchen door, a black-and-white kitten bounded right through her legs and leaped into my lap. Laughing merrily, I stroked its fur.

"Her name is Storm," I decided matter-of-factly. "Storm." At the sound of her new name, the kitten licked my cheek with her pink sandpaper tongue and I giggled.

He escorts me into his house, which is almost a replica of mine. Same carpeted, regal white stairs and burnished rail spiraling to the second floor. Same creamy, circular living room with that fireplace beckoning you over, inviting you for a cup of hot chocolate. Only the furniture is unique; he's added his own touch to the place. It's more homely.

"Want some strawberries?" asks Wolf, leading me to the kitchen. "I just bought them earlier. The packet hasn't even been opened."

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. Got any cheese?"

With a light laugh, he opens the refrigerator door. I try to peek inside, but all I see is a few bags of fruit and vegetables and some sauces. There's a lot more, but the rest is out of view. "Here you go."


End file.
